This is what happens when I mix up dragons and Cinderella!
Once there was a place called Drara, a kingdom where multicolored dragons flew through the air, and to the people below it was as average as seagulls at the beach. There were all sorts of dragons, from gigantic snakelike sea-serpents to dragons smaller than cats whose flame was used for lighting the street lamps. There were dragons with huge wings and streamlined bodies mostly used for racing, to slower earthbound dragons that plowed the fields. It was a peaceful land where few were poor and crops were plentiful.
Everybody seemed to be happy there, except for one person. Her name was Cinda, but the other farmhands called her Cinders because of her fascination with dragons. Everybody liked dragons, but Cinda was obsessed with them. All dragons seemed to like and trust her, and she was one of the few people who could make a stubborn dragon complete a task without having to stoop to more severe methods. She could ride a dragon since she could walk.
Her life could've been successful, if it weren't that she was an orphan. Orphans were given to farm owners to work as farm hands, and Cinda's particular boss was a sour woman with an only son. The woman, Sara, was often cruel to her farmhands, making them sleep in the barn instead of in her large mansion-type Victorian house. Anyone who broke her strict rules (except for her precious 'baby boy') got to clean the stalls of the large dragons (which was quite a horrid experience). Whenever she strutted (yes, strutted) about the barn in her custom tailored dragon hide boots, she would glare at the farmhands with an expression like she had taken a bite out of a lemon. Hence the nickname 'Sour Sara'.
Sour Sara's son, who was the same age as Cinda (Cinda was to turn 18 that summer) was as cruel as his mother, whom had plenty of free reign since none of Sour Sara's rules seemed to apply to him. He was a lazy slob, who's only job was making the farmhand's lives, particularly Cinda, as miserable as possible. He would run around the barn, tipping over barrels and splitting feed sacks, and would use a shovel to fling manure at the farmhands he hated the most (Cinda). But this sort of treatment had made Cinda light on her feet, and now she could practically pirouette around the flying dung, and eventually she was so skilled she could catch the manure in a bucket so there would be a smaller mess to deal with when 'Mean Jean' slouched away.
Every summer on her birthday, the royal family would hold a ball to celebrate the careless joy of summer before preparing for winter. Cinda always considered it her birthday present, because the bosses for gone from the afternoon until sometime at one a.m, leaving the farmhands to have a small party themselves without having to worry about breaking any rules or cleaning up after the rampages of Mean Jean.
You can understand that a part of Cinda wanted to go to the ball herself, but Sara would have her cleaning all the stalls for a year for even hinting at the question. And even if she could go, she would be the laughingstock of the whole kingdom showing up in her farmhand clothing. They probably wouldn't even let her through the door when they caught sight of her patched, ripped, stained, and altogether dirty dress and thin leather pants with ice dragon fur boots.
"Come on, Cinders, cheer up! Even if you did go, and even if your outfit was decent, I hear that balls are boring with smelly cheese, slow numbers, and the royal prince only dances with the prettiest girls. No offense or anything, but there's probably a duke's daughter with a much more frilly dress with high heels pulled in a solid gold carriage by Lava dragons." Rattled on one of Cinda's favorite farmhands, Jenna, whom was the closest she had to a friend. She did have a point about the duke's daughter. Only the high ranking classes could afford Lava dragons, which were majestic, sleek, and bright red. They were the pure breeds of the dragon world.
"I know. Besides, high heels must be really uncomfortable. And smelly cheese is disgusting." Cinda faked a smile. But really, she would eat a mound of cheese as big as a land dragon to go to a ball in a frilly dress.
I'm not that much a fan of smelly cheese. I'll get to the next chappie soonish!
Please review! I love getting advice!
